THE NEWS: WE’VE COME A LONG WAY SINCE . . .

You wonder how it’s possible for drama mediums--movies, theater, teleplays--to compete with the presentation of the news anymore. Before we got these little picture screens in our houses, we had to go some place if we wanted to see the news. We could hear it on the radio, read it in the newspaper, but to see it we had to go out. To the movies, to be exact. Before the feature film, they would show us a newsreel in which a quick montage of recent happenings would pass before our eyes.

Yes, very early on The News became an indelible part of Show Biz. Something to amuse and titillate those who had paid the price of admission into the theater. Not, mind you, that it could compete with the main feature, a film that would have been shot on a studio sound stage under perfectly controlled conditions, beautifully lit, with impeccable sound and gorgeous sets and musical score to match.

The newsreels, on the other hand, would have been shot on the fly, catch-as-catch can, under emergency conditions, perhaps in the dark of the night, the pouring rain or a blazing midday sun. To get decent photography was almost out of the question, the resulting, colorless film often scratchy, grainy, out of focus and wretchedly jerky, the camera operator having grabbed whatever he could.

Furthermore the News would be old hat. Would have taken place days and days before since it was shot with film, and film, as we know, takes time to be developed, and a lab to do it in. And since the odds of having a lab anywhere near the site of the event would have been astronomical, the negative would have had to be schlepped from the happening to wherever a lab might be, turned into a print, and then moved on to the showing place--by prop plane, slow boat, pony express for all I know, certainly not with the speed of light.

No, News was hardly competition for a “Yankee Doodle Dandy” or a “Wuthering Heights.”

But then, my dears, the worm turned. With the advent of all those satellites twirling around above our heads we are blessed with absolutely instant news and moreover don’t have to go anywhere to see it. Don’t have to stick a toe out our front doors. Don’t even have to get out of bed if we don’t feel like it. All we have to do is flex a small finger muscle, press a button, et voila !, there it is, before our very eyes, in glorious color, too (blood and all), from around the world. The tiniest corner. The furtherest hinterland.

We have been through wars (long ones and shorties) right there in our boudoirs. We’ve witnessed assassinations, right there in our bedrooms. Seen floods and fires, hurricanes and volcanic eruptions and earthquakes. Planes being hijacked, crooked elections in the Philippines. Saw the Space Shuttle blown to smithereens, we and our school children. And bombs dropped on Tripoli. We’ve even seen a nuclear plant spewing out radiation in a place called Chernobyl whether the Soviets wanted us to or not.

In the face of such razzle dazzle, it’s a wonder any film makers have the chutzpah to even try to get their projects off the ground. But not only do they try, they often beat the odds. Like those who came up with the ingenious idea of simply taking a giant leap up and over the news and into space, into the future, and brought us creatures we’d never, ever in our lives seen anywhere, not on the News or off, squat waddly ones, tall, clanky golden-metal ones, rotund robots who squawk and wink and we fell in love with them and got up and out of our houses to rush to theaters to see them. Of course their presenters had the good sense not to confuse us too much with their far-out characters by giving them simple, tried-and-true story lines from the past, when good was good, and evil was evil, and we could tell which was which by the color of their hats. Oh sure they had to update some words and phrases in the dialogue, such as blastoff, countdown, laser, orbit, asteroid, stuff like that. But they could pick all that up from the news.

There are film makers who came to realize, too, that there is a new generation coming along every summer who’ve never seen any of the old film stories (or read them, either, since reading seems to be passe) so they can make them over again--updating the hair and clothes in these, as well as adding a sprinkle of scatological words and phrases throughout. (The boy and girl in thee sometimes get to make out, too, unlike Andy and Polly back at Metro.)

Oh yes, The Industry has stayed in there pitching. It didn’t throw in the towel or sit around on its backside waiting for a miracle to save it or anything.

But then damned if a miracle didn’t come along, anyhow. It’s called Videocassette. If you can’t lick ‘em, join ‘em, I believe the phrase goes. When I think of what a big deal it used to be to have movies at home. First you needed the space for a projection booth that could hold two machines, plus a room capacious enough to hold a big screen and seats, as well as a fairly stalwart person to lug about the big round cans the reels of film came in, usually about seven or eight of them, depending on the length of the picture.

But now you don’t need anybody else’s muscle but your own to get the picture-show-of-your-choice to its destination, as today they come in sizes you can toss into your over-shoulder and cart home yourself.

And what’s more, you don’t need all that space. Don’t need any more than you already have-- for watching The News. You can look at your news, and then watch a movie. Just the way we used to do. Isn’t that something?

What won’t they think of next. . . .